Chapter Thirty-One Arion #2
“Before we reach an evil sorcerer’s cursed castle?”
She lifts her chin. “Yes.”
“That’s absurd.”
“More absurd than you draining us and killing us only days before we can obtain the heart?”
I blink at her. Realize the truth of her words, that we’re close. We’re close, and we only need to survive. Amaya has storm magic. Vesper is a siren. Gavriall is… here. And that has to be enough. Will it be enough?
“Fine,” I concede with a growl. “You win.”
Her lips twitch, and she even manages a soft laugh. Her stomach must have settled, then. I exhale a shallow breath of relief.
I lower my voice, barely imperceptible over the whistle of wind. “Do you think we’re going to find it?”
She stares down at the sun disappearing beneath the blurred edge of crystal waters. “I hope so.”
“You’re not confident.” A statement, not a question. I’m not confident either.
I don’t know what the fuck to believe anymore.
Zephyra has irrevocably turned my world on its axis and spun it the wrong way round.
Here I am, gently cradling the arm of a mermaid I would’ve given anything to break weeks ago.
Here I am, staring at the freckles on her nose, tracing the curve of her lips, trying to imprint her in my brain forever.
Even if our forever can’t last. Won’t last.
“Honestly,” she whispers, “it’s really fucking hard to think about any of this now.
Before… I thought we were on some stupid adventure.
Pointless, and impossible, but not horrifying.
Not this life-threatening. I thought a warlock had saved me from the brink of death, and all I had to do was put up with him for a few weeks or months until he realized he was searching for something that hasn’t existed in centuries. ”
“And now?” I ask, healing her cuts until we reach the Sal.
“Now it has to be real. If it’s not…” She curses again, harsher than last time. “We’re fucked, and I don’t want to die like this. So I hope it’s real. If the sorcerer is involved, there’s something here. Right in front of our faces. Something we’re missing.”
“You think he’s involved?”
“I didn’t want to say it to everyone else, but…
he’s part of this. He has to be.” She shakes her head, scooting away from the edge of the plank, nearly landing in my lap.
“It can’t be a coincidence that he erected his castle on the site of ancient ruins.
His castle… it never felt like it was fully under his command.
When he would leave to barter more deals, to steal more soul magic, the castle enchantments would continue.
As if they were all sentient. His guards would remain dormant, but everything else was alive.
“Even if it’s just to suck Abysses dry of its magic, he has to be there for a reason.
I think he chose this castle. I think the coincidences are too perfect for any of this to be an accident.
” She glances at me abruptly. Sharply. “What are the odds we found each other, Arion? A warlock on the brink of death. A mermaid on the edge of execution. I know exactly where you need to go. No one else could have navigated this castle but me.”
I try my best to follow along. “So you think it’s a trap?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She crosses her arms and rests her chin between us. Half on her hand and half on my shoulder. “Do you believe in destiny, Arion?”
Destiny.
A week ago, I’d have said absolutely. I was destined for greatness, for power. I was destined to save the fucking world. But now—
“It’s hard to believe in destiny when you’re dying.”
She doesn’t respond to that. “Abysses was created by a goddess. Occupied by gods. A divine utopia. What if we are meant to uncover it? What if all our pain and trauma has been for this?”
I understand then. All at once, it crashes over me. She doesn’t think this is a trap at all. She doesn’t think the sorcerer is maliciously guarding the heart. She thinks the gods are behind this—her goddess—and she thinks everything in her life created her for this.
My jaw tightens. “Then I’d say the gods are fucking assholes.”
She glances up with wide eyes. Surprised. “Isn’t it part of your job description to worship your god incessantly?”
A growl reverberates through my chest. “I don’t care.
If they put you through eight years of fucking torture just so you can discover some ruins, they all deserve to have their throats slit like any other criminal.
Worse than any other criminal. Fuck destiny and fuck them.
No. No, you weren’t meant to be tortured, Zephyra.
Locked up and abused.” I shake with fury, unable to repress it when I’m already so exhausted from repressing everything else.
My control frays until it’s barely hanging on by a thread.
“Once we get the heart, I’m killing him, Zephyra.
I’m finding the sorcerer, and I’m gutting him.
Or I’m tying him up with my magic so you can gut him.
But he’s fucking dying—suffering—one way or another. ”
“Tell me how you really feel,” she teases, though her voice trembles and the silvered cord pulsates with warmth.
She turns then, glances over our shoulders at the rest of the ship.
The crew continues to sail along Amaya’s winds.
Gavriall continues to draw his map. Vesper continues glowering at anyone who looks at her a second too long.
And Amaya—she stands at the helm, lightning crackling all around her.
“I never wanted him to die,” Zephyra says, so quietly I almost miss it.
“What?”
“The sorcerer.” She looks up at me, still half sitting in my lap, and clutches my arm when the ship arcs higher. Faster. “I never thought about killing him.”
That is—fucking incomprehensible to me. “Why not?”
She shrugs. “The damage is done. What would I gain from murdering him now? The worst happened. I can’t change it.” A deep breath. “I just wanted to get away. From him. Forever. I wanted to outrun it all.”
I recall her words from the cavern. But I’ve been running for so long… I don’t know how to quit.
“You can’t outrun that,” I tell her.
“I know.” She searches my gaze. For what, I don’t know. But she peers into it as if she can see my soul. “You want to kill the cult. You want revenge. That’s more admirable, isn’t it? There’s agency in anger. There’s no agency in running. Just cowardice.”
I don’t respond right away, and she starts to stand. To walk belowdecks, where she’s been taking her breaks between seas. But I grab her wrist and stop her. Her eyes drop to my hand, to the touch that burns us both.
“I don’t think any of this is about being admirable or having agency. I think what you went through… you can process it however you want. You had your life taken from you, and the choices you make now—they should be yours. Fuck what anyone else thinks.”
She eyes me warily. “So you don’t think I’m weak?”
“Zephyra, you almost killed me. Multiple times. I haven’t considered you weak since the moment we met, when you threw me on my ass.”
She grins at that. A wicked little grin that only stokes the flames between us. She’s almost killing me now. Bringing me to my gods-damned knees.
She stands, tugging me up after her so we’re in the center of the plank, storm clouds gathering around us and thunder booming across the skies. A light rain begins to dampen her hair and clothes and skin. She’s so fucking beautiful, it’s killing me.
“What if I deserved it?” she asks, her turquoise eyes brimming with indecipherable emotion. “What if I’m just as evil as the sorcerer, Arion? What if this discovery is the only thing that will make me worth it?”
What if she’s evil? She’s a mermaid. She tried to murder me.
She’s made a thousand wrong choices since we met, and she’s crass, and obnoxious, and—“I don’t care,” I say, and realize abruptly that it’s true.
It’s truer than any thought I’ve had before.
“I see you, Zephyra. The worst parts and the best parts. I see you, and…” I should stop speaking.
I should swallow every word before I damn us—damn myself—further.
This isn’t a conversation in a darkened room while she’s sick.
This isn’t an admission that can be concealed behind sadness or pain or pity. Still…
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I want to touch her. I want to remember this. I want to remember her.
“If you’re evil, fucking destroy me, Zephyra.”
Her gaze drops to my mouth. She licks her lips, slower this time, and I feel every second of that movement like a hook wrenched between my ribs. “We’re being watched,” she says.
“I don’t give a shit.”
Another grin. A smirk. My knees threaten to buckle as her eyes gleam.
Between us, wrapped around our calves, the silvered cord thrums with her heartbeat.
My heartbeat. Our aching, consuming need.
I can’t take it anymore. This tension between us.
I am so fucking sick of ignoring it, repressing it, and pretending I don’t need her.
My knees threaten to buckle—and isn’t that exactly what I want?
To drop to my knees, push up her skirt, spread her legs and feast on her?
Eat until she’s shaking and moaning and screaming for the whole world to hear. No more phantom touches. No more magic.
Just her. Just me.
Just us.
“Leave, Zephyra,” I say, my voice as frayed as my control. Gruff and hard-edged. This is her last chance. “Walk away now.”
A challenge sparks in her gaze. She tilts her head, reaching forward to tangle her soft fingers in my hair. “No.”
“If you don’t—”
“What?” she demands. “Are you going to fuck me, Arion? Maybe I want that. Maybe it’s all I’ve wanted—all I’ve thought about—since the cavern.
Your hands on me. Your cock inside me. You want me to beg?
Fine.” She looks up with wide, hungry eyes.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, Arion, and make me come. Fuck me, Arion, and make me forget my own name. Please, please fuck—”
The rest of my control snaps. Gone.
Without another word, I take her hand. Pull her off the plank and lead her belowdecks with impatient steps.
I don’t stop until I kick open the door of the empty crew’s quarters and throw her inside.
She smiles up at me, wicked as always. Her mouth opens, undoubtedly to tease me.
To beg. To do gods know what. I don’t fucking care. Not about anything. Not anymore.
Snarling, I grab her by the throat and kiss her.
My mermaid.